The elf was even hotter than his pictures in the dating section of the LARP app.
Cassian had long red-gold hair, seamless elf ears that must have cost a fortune, and a green tunic cinched with a belt that made Lauren's SHEIN-purchased alchemist costume look cheap. Overall, he fit perfectly with Lauren’s Legolas-fuelled teenaged bisexual revelation.
She waved. “It’s me, Lauren! From the app.”
“Ah! My fair maiden.” Cassian waved back and practically glided over. “Cassian Riverrun, second son of the Great Uniter, hailing from the Cherished Lands.”
“Gosh, I’m so bad at roleplaying.” But Cassian was a natural so she played along. “Uhm, Lauren Black from Middlelake Township? House beside the only Arby’s?”
“Rejoice!” Cassian beamed. “Lauren Black of the Final Arby’s, how good to see you. I’ve crossed the Great Tree’s branches to this mortal realm to finally meet you. You enchanted me from the first moment I was given a mortal device and saw you upon the Kingsbury Fantasy LARP application.”
“Ha, you’re good at this,” Lauren said with a grin. Weirdly good. “Well, how’s about we do that whole date thing?”
Cassian took her hand, eyes glistening (was that rainbow eyeliner?). “I would love nothing more.”
They walked in stride, stopping at stalls as Cassian appraised every piece of jewellery.
“It's quite impressive that you’re an alchemist at such a young age. You must be, what? Two hundred years?” he asked.
Lauren tapped the potions superglued to her belt. “Twenty, close enough. And you’re—?” Way too pretty to be real. He looked like he modeled eyewear.
“Two hundred and thirty, though I can assure you I have ample experience uniting warring factions and preserving the forests.”
“Ha… yeah. But for real though, what do you actually do?”
Cassian blinked. “Are you disappointed I’m not an elven warrior?”
“No, it’s,” weird that he was cagey about his real job, but whatever, “totally fine.”
“Excellent!” He lifted up an Evenstar necklace. “Then please, Lauren Black, accept this as my token.”
“Uhm, thanks?” Lauren pulled it around her neck.
“Huzzah, the courting gift has been accepted! We shall go then to be wed.”
“Pardon?”
Cassian turned and with a flick of his wrist summoned—
Lauren choked. “I-Is that a portal?!” An elvish forest city shone through the sparking oval.
Cassian held out his hand. “To the Cherished Lands, my beloved!”
The LARPers around them stared as if this was a performance, but Cassian stepped in and actually went through the portal.
It was real?!
“Wait. You’re an actual elf?”
Cassian frowned. “Of course? Are you not an actual alchemist?”
“No?!” Lauren threw her hands up. “Cassian, all of this is pretend. It’s fake!”
“Oh…I see.” Fat tears welled in his eyes. “How foolish of me.”
“Wait, no. I meant the roleplay festival, Cassian. I didn’t mean the—”
Cassian drew his outstretched hand back, the portal closing around him.
“—date!” she finished to empty air.
“Wow,” an off-brand Witcher whispered to a fairy, “they really upped the budget this year.”
J. Needham is a cryptid who lives somewhere in the North with their fiancée and evil little dog. They love writing about queer people—both the heroic and morally grey kind. BLUESKY
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